What Doesn't Kill me, Doesn't Kill Me
by Vision in Blue
Summary: A series of drabbles in the aftermath of the birthday cake that was never eaten. Post-Superboy and the Invisible Girl. Spoilers and language!
1. Daughter of Air

**What Doesn't Kill Me, Doesn't Kill Me**

_A series of drabbles in the aftermath of the birthday cake that was never eaten. Post-Superboy and the Invisible Girl. Spoilers!_

**A/n: The brainchild for this came about during a four hour car ride. If you've never been to NJ, then you don't know how absolutely BORING it is to stay on the parkway for 4 hours in the dark on a Sunday night. (I resorted to crocheting in the dark to the last quarter of the N2N soundtrack, all of Spring Awakening, and half of In the Heights… so much harder than it sounds.) Like the summary said, I'm trying to make this a series of drabbles. This one is Natalie's POV, but I'm trying to engage other characters in this, too. If I can't come up with anything, I'll revise it to make it just about Natalie; I LOVE writing in her POV.**

**P.S. I made Gabe's birthday time for two reasons. One reason will be clear at the end, I hope, and the other is because it was something many of my friends recognized at this writing workshop I went to a few weeks ago. Dedicated: DWAP '09. :pope wave: ;D**

**Disclaimer: Aaron Tveit has no idea who I am. I wish it weren't so. Since he doesn't know who I am (YOU DON'T KNOWWWW!), obviously I'm not an integral part of the Next to Normal creative team.**

_Daughter of Air_

Tonight, at 11:11 pm, Gabriel Goodman would have been 18. This would have been the night my parents would dread the most; he was an adult now! The law would have freed him! He could get the hell out of here! I don't know if he would be the type to bolt as soon as possible, but that's what I would do.

But he's dead, so I'll never know.

It's stupid how all of those dreamy people at school believe in things like "psychic dream visions" and "everything happens for a reason" and "true love". If everything happens for a reason, then why did Gabe die as a baby? Was it just to fuck up the family 16 years later? Was it to test how long we could go without blowing something up? If he were living, would I have even made it out of the zygote world? I mean, like, my parents can handle _one _child_ just so well_, it's like, I wouldn't be here. So, did the puppeteer of life decide to cut _Gabe's _marionette strings loose while knotting everyone else's? Fate just has too much fun watching us fuck up again and again, apparently.

Of course, fate also had to make Henry stay and watch the big shebang. I _knew_ that this would go wrong; it was the eerie calmness before a hurricane. Everything just swirls around and there are warnings of danger ahead, but you shrug it off because it's easier to just ignore it. Then, when it comes, it's more horrid than you have ever dreamt. When I was younger and I had nightmares, I scurried away to my parents' bedroom with my tattered stuffed bear Peter dragging behind me, and they'd tell me that everything will be better in the morning. So... would anyone tell me that now?

Would I even believe them?

It's 11:02 now; 9 minutes until our beloved Gabe is 18. Sure, it doesn't seem like a long amount of time now, but then again, it doesn't take long to screw stuff up. Mom managed to do so in 4 seconds; the people at the Guinness Book of World Records would shit themselves in excitement.

Since it looks like I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, I might as well make a list:

REASONS THAT YOUR FAMILY IS FUCKED

At your swim meet last year, your mother dove into the pool when you were getting a towel. Bonus points if it was in the lane with the hot backstroke guy from Bloomwood Park.

Your father forces you to bring the guy you've been hanging out with to dinner, only for him to witness a complete disaster. You also start wondering what's wrong with him when he doesn't sprint down the block immediately after the whole ordeal. Great idea, _Dad_.

Your mother once made sandwiches on the floor. Bonus points if she made one for someone who isn't alive.

Your sibling gets more attention than you do. Bonus points if he or she is older. Daily Double if he or she is dead. Take the cake if you'd rather be him or her on almost any given day.

So, here I am… tada. I'm never going to win at this game. He's immortal _and_ aging! He defies the laws of time! Oh, that's right; Gabe wins…at…everything. He's all I'll never be and _more_. I'm just so fucking tired of competing with him. You know what, Mom? Take him. Just take him and go. Apology _not_ accepted, so take him and go somewhere else.

11:10. Henry told me that if I needed anything I could just txt him. Seriously, how'd he get my number? You know, I _knew_ it took him more time than it should have to put his number in my contacts list (he labeled himself as 'Henry 8-)', for the record. It comes right after 'Dad' but before 'Mother Figure'). What nerve. If I'm going down, why should I drag him down, too? Why would he want to bring _that_ upon himself…?

11:11

_Make a wish…_

Give me a stable family. I hate this feeling; for _one _day, I want stability. Just _one_ day.

_Happy 18__th__, _dear_ brother._


	2. Perfect for Her

_**What Doesn't Kill Me, Doesn't Kill Me**_

**A/n: Wow!! Out of all the characters mentioned in N2N, I never included Henry as an integral part (unless you count adding his name as 'Henry 8)' into Nat's cell phone) of any of my fics. Anyway, since I've been pretty much putting poor Natalie through hell in all of my fics, it's time that I wrench my heart away from hers to give others a time to shine. Now it's Henry's turn, and his POV is… tricky. I hope I do it to justice because Henry is just so… ahh! 3 Thank you^24 to witch-of-the-west9482, greengirl16, LunaAlice322, populardarling, and melroseee for reviewing!! I promise to do an epic Alice Ripley the Tonys- like dedication speech once the journey is done. ;)**

**Disclaimer: If I wrote Next to Normal, it'd be easier to write Henry, so a longer installment would replace this. And Aaron Tveit doesn't know who I am. (Sigh…)**

_Perfect for Her_

Wow. You would have never guessed that the girl who could turn ink on paper into beautiful harmonies had her own sheet music poisoned with sour chords. She still thinks the practice room is soundproof; I'll let her believe that. The room is actually almost _totally_ soundproof, but if you press your ear on the door, you can get a good idea about what goes on inside. Between the complex melodic journeys, I'd hear her stop and criticize herself with "God dammit- why can't you get this right?"s and "Really?"s and scowls before starting up again. I'd always thought that if she just kept going without acknowledging it, things would be ok.

Then I realized that, to her, acknowledging anything and everything is second nature. Based on what I observed from this past dinner experience, there is something acidic burning away at years of denial. Well, denial from the parents, anyway; Natalie knows all, and she hates herself for it. Hate wastes spirit, but I can still see her spirit shining like constellations on a clear summer's night.

Natalie goes through things on a daily basis that I can't even imagine. "I'm, like, one fuck up from disaster." If she keeps telling herself that, then who knows what will happen to her if she actually commits this "fuck up". When she keeps everything to herself, she's building up a wall between her parents and others around her. I want her to understand that I'd be there for her in any situation, whether it be an issue of family tension or a meltdown post-birthday cake for a deceased brother.

What first caught my eye about her (other than her piano siren ways attracting me like a moth to light) was the way she'd sit in class. While other girls were checking their sidekicks or filing their nails, Natalie looked like she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Now I understand why she always played until the last possible moment in the practice room; her home had no heart.

Let me rephrase that; her home had a heart – we all have one – but it was hidden with a concrete wall of grief and instability. I could help her find the light. Even though I can't exactly go around with an absolute understanding with her motives in life, I could bring something good, and stable. This world is already fucked up enough, and having another person who can get you through the rough days, no matter how long and dark they may be. I could show her that even though the world will probably never end up in an elementary school mural, with everyone holding hands and smiling, we could be one less unhappy thing in the world.

Maybe you think I'm crazy, but I still believe that I could be perfect for her.


End file.
